


Law of Surprise

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25026451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: Geralt had been told Witchers did not get pregnant. He was told wrong.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 16
Kudos: 239
Collections: Pregnancy Flash 2020





	Law of Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BiffElderberry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiffElderberry/gifts).



Geralt lowered himself into the chair, unable to keep the sigh of pleasure from escaping his lips. To get off his feet was a welcome relief after a long day of riding, hunting, and fighting. He took a swig of water—it still felt wrong to turn down ale—and propped his feet up on the chair opposite. No one would try sitting there; people stared, but they had to know a pregnant Witcher was best avoided.

Geralt leaned back, resting his free hand on his belly. There would come a time when he would have to stop working, but he would try to do it for as long as possible. He needed the money for himself and the baby. If he worked a few more weeks, he thought he would just be able to do it and take some time off when the child was born. 

And he could take that time to figure out what to do after it was born.

When his stew arrived, he tucked in. He was eating for two, after all, as he was constantly reminded by the tiny foot lodged in his ribcage. 

That, he decided, was Jaskier's fault. The entire situation was both of their faults, of course, but the way so much of what the baby did seemed intentional… all he could envision was a tiny version of Jaskier. 

"Geralt?" 

Geralt jerked his head up, coming face to face with the full-size version of Jaskier.

"Fancy seeing you here," Jaskier said, pulling out the other chair, unceremoniously dropping Geralt's feet to the floor. 

Why, Geralt wondered, did he always have a way of turning up at exactly the wrong time? He had not seen Jaskier in eight months—not since they'd inadvisably fallen into bed together, an act Geralt had assumed would have no consequences because Witchers could not get pregnant. 

Evidently, the Witcher masters who had told him this incontrovertible fact had not been aware of bard sperm. It figured that Jaskier would be the only one capable of knocking him up.

"You could _say_ something," Jaskier said. "Greet me with words instead of just grunts."

Geralt's answer was to stand up.

Jaskier's eyes went so wide Geralt almost worried they might fall out of his head. 

"I didn't think your lot did that," he said. "I mean, I didn't think—"

"Neither did I," Geralt growled. 

"Well." Jaskier swallowed hard. "Congratulations." 

"Aren't you wondering?" 

Jaskier shifted uncomfortably. "I mean… I don't think me, an ordinary bard with nothing whatsoever remarkable about him, could have…" 

"Well, you did." Geralt rubbed his belly. "I certainly haven't been with anyone else."

"Oh. Well." He paused. "You haven't?" 

Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Are you surprised?"

"No. Well. Yes." 

Geralt sighed. "Well, it's yours."

They were both silent for a moment. Geralt went back to eating. The baby was hungry.

Jaskier cleared his throat. "Do you want…" 

Geralt's gaze snapped up. He didn't know what Jaskier was about to offer. He had the vague idea that his family had money, and he didn't want to be given money, or to leave his child somewhere… 

"Do you want me to… stay? With you?" 

Geralt stared at him.

"I can understand if you don't," Jaskier said hurriedly. "You made it rather clear what you thought of my being around you the last time. Only I didn't know you were…" He gestured vaguely. 

"Neither did I." 

Jaskier looked rather pained, Geralt was reluctant to admit. "That's why I thought I'd ask if you might have changed your mind. I'm happy to help, and well. If it's mine, I'd like to know it." He paused. "I'd like to know it even if it wasn't mine." 

"Jaskier…" Geralt wasn't sure what he wanted. He did not want to send him away; seeing Jaskier like this pained him, but being pregnant did nothing to alleviate the old concerns, that eventually, one day, something would happen to Jaskier and it would be Geralt's fault. 

"You know you don't have to pretend you don't need help. If you don't _want_ it, that's all right, I suppose, though I do think it's silly. How do you expect to—" 

"Jaskier." 

"What?" 

"You can stay. You _should_ stay. I'd… like you to stay." He looked down.

"I'd like to stay, too." 

Geralt shifted awkwardly. "If you wanted to come upstairs with me, you could… meet the baby."

Jaskier smiled. It was the sort of smile that had gotten Geralt into bed with him in the first place, one that lit up his whole face. "I would like that."

The baby kicked performatively as Jaskier touched his belly; inside of ten minutes, it was turning happily as Jaskier played and sang a lullaby he'd apparently made up on the spot. 

Geralt was quite keenly aware that they had made no arrangements for where Jaskier should sleep. As the evening wore on, this thought concerned him less and less. When Jaskier kissed him, he found he did not care about sleeping arrangements at all. Nothing, he thought, could be more right than Jaskier lying behind him, arm resting on Geralt's belly. It would be hard, he knew, living the life they did, with a baby. With Jaskier, he could envision a way of making it work.


End file.
